


Ripped To Shreds

by succculent_horror (Voyaelm)



Category: Boyfriend to Death (Visual Novels)
Genre: Abuse, Blood and Gore, Eavesdropping, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Knives, Minor Character Death, Other, Speaking german to confuse your victims, Strade in general, Torture, Unnamed female character - Freeform, im bad at tags sorry, organ eating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-26
Updated: 2018-07-26
Packaged: 2019-06-16 19:47:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15444504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Voyaelm/pseuds/succculent_horror
Summary: Ren sits with his back against the wood, ears perked up to listen to whatever Strade is doing to his… guest. The sounds alone paint a very vivid picture.





	Ripped To Shreds

**Author's Note:**

> I used Google Translate for the German, but the translations are (in order):
> 
> So ein gutes Mädchen : Such a good girl!
> 
> Aber ich bin fertig mit dem Spielen : But, I'm done with playing.
> 
> Es hat Spaß gemacht! : It was fun!
> 
> Fuchs: Fox
> 
> Liebe: Love

It's faint and if any sound were coming through the earbuds that sit in his ears, it would be drowned out. In between songs, he hears a yell for help, then silence. Ren has good hearing, so he's sure that it isn't just his head playing tricks with him. Taking out his earbuds, he listens for more and more he receives.

Screams. Screams and laughs that boom from behind the door to the basement. He's sitting on one of Strade's cream colored chairs with his laptop on the arm about to pull up one of his games that he has yet to finish. 

Ah fuck it. Ren closes his laptop and moves it to the seat of the chair when he stands up. He walks through the hallway toward the normal looking door that leads to Strade’s workshop.

He sits with his back against the wood, ears perked up to listen to whatever Strade is doing to his… guest. He can't pick out any specifics, but he is picking up on sounds. Those alone are already painting a vivid picture.

He must really be going to town on her then. For him to be that loud. But, for some twisted reason, he wonders what he's doing to her. Maybe out of fear, maybe out of something else entirely.

His brain catches up with his body when he has already began to open the heavy door. It opens with minimal sound thanks to Ren’s careful motions. Even if it did make noticeable noise, the begging and screams would have drowned it out. The girl down there sounds like she's already being murdered. Too bad that Strade only brought her home about three hours ago. He's not going to break a toy that quickly. Unless, of course, he gets bored. But he doesn't sound very bored.

As the door closes slowly behind him, Ren pads down the stairs, keeping his clawed feet near the edge so they wouldn't click on the wood. When he’s about 6 steps from the bottom, he can see the girl tied up against the thick metal pole. He gently falls to sit on the step and peek out from behind the wall.

She isn't blindfolded, so if she turned her head, she’d see Ren crouched down on the stairs observing. Not to say that his victims usually are blindfolded. Strade likes everyone to see what's going to happen. She's too focused on Strade, anyways. On what he'll do to her, to worry about the stairs. 

Whatever she was wearing in in tatters now, sliced with knifes and ripped by hands. Shreds of what looks like a blue dress cover few areas on her body. Her stomach is the most covered area. It’s as if Strade rucked her dress up to her waist and had his way with her. Ren wouldn't put it past him, he's just thankful it's over and he doesn't have to watch. Watching him do that, to women and men alike, makes him sick to his stomach.

Ren doesn't see Strade at all, so he moves down a step slowly as to not trigger the woman into looking his way. He's successful and he can see Strade heading over and crouching at the woman’s feet. He’s completely weaponless, empty palms resting on his knees. Ren doesn’t even see his signature knife in his pocket. 

“Y’know, you've been lots of fun!” Steade speaks loudly and happily, like his isn't torturing the woman in front of him. Like they are normal people. “ _So ein gutes Mädchen_!” He pats her on the face harshly. Slap would have been a better word but the pat was already rather endearing.

German was a staple for Strade when he brought people back. He loved the look on their faces when he said something that they couldn't understand. It made them feel helpless. They didn't know what he'd do.

That's why Ren’s glad he can understand some German phrases and words. It gives him an edge to Strade's teasing and playing that no one else possesses. Well, no one from around here, anyways.

“ _Aber ich bin fertig mit dem Spielen_. _Es hat Spaß gemacht_!” Ren is able to pick out most of the phrase. He's gonna kill her now. She's no longer interesting to him. Ren would find it in himself to feel sorry for her, but he looks at his bare arms which are covered in light pink scars and bruises and quickly dismisses the thought.

The woman doesn't seem mortally terrified at all, like she's just feeling the normal amount of terror. Ren isn't surprised. She didn't know what he said. She doesn't know she's about to meet her demise. 

Strade raises up from him crouching position and walks over to the counter. That removes him from Ren’s field of vision. He doesn't try to peak out further out of fear he'll fall down the stairs. 

Now brandishing his favorite knife, Strade brings himself back into Ren's view. He whispers in her ear after he leans into his previous crouching position.

“Goodbye.” The woman’s eyes go wide and she starts begging, shaking, and crying. ‘No’ and ‘Stop’ pour out of her mouth like water while Strade moves the knife lower.

He brings the hunting knife deep into her side over and over. He's laughing, the bellowing sounds bouncing off all the cement walls. Her screams do the same, but that isn't what Ren is focusing on. He has no reason to focus on her. She's nothing in the grand scheme of things.

Ren watches the life leave her. Eyes that were once crystalline blue are now glassy and dull. Her skin, once a beautiful tan, is now sallowy and light. Ren thinks she still looks rather pretty. He's surprised Strade managed to swipe her from a bar. She used to look like she belonged on the cover of a magazine. 

But, suddenly, he stops. It's as if Ren just paused the scene in front of him.

Strade deadpans, eyes still looking at the dead women under his arms. “What are you doing up there?” Ren scrambles backwards on his step, nearly falling down the remaining 5 stairs. He digs his claws into the softwood and tries to get _smaller_. He even wraps his tail around himself.

There is no way Strade noticed him until now. He’s had a perfect view of the other for a good 10 minutes but he was too focused on his latest catch to look over at the stairs. Right?

“I asked you a question, _fuchs_.” Strade tugs the knife out of the bloody mess of the woman's side. He looks at it with a tilted head before licking the blade clean. “What are you doing?”

“...watching.” He, he doesn't really know what he's doing other than that.

“No shit.” He stands up and wipes his hands on his pants. Then looks over to Ren and smiles brightly.

In Ren’s years of being here with Strade, it hasn't gotten any easier to discern his grin. Both versions of him, being ‘Chill Strade’ and ‘I'm gonna literally murder you Strade’, contain an overly happy smile equipped with untimely joviality. Like he's trying to lure you in. In both ways. Ren doesn't fall for it as hard as he did at the start. “Get your ass down here.”

Ren quickly but cautiously descends the stairs as per Strade’s demand. He stops a good foot away from him, but makes sure he's within grasping range. He doesn't want to be close, but he doesn't want to be yelled at for being too far.

Strade does exactly what Ren is expecting; darting his free hand up to grab Ren by the collar of his tank top and pulling him against his body. His knife lays flat against the small of Ren’s back just above his tail and, despite better judgement, Ren whines at the pressure. 

“Why are you down here? You know better.” 

Ren closes his eyes and takes a deep breath before he begins speaking. “I could hear you from the living room. I was curious.” 

“Do you remember the saying about curiosity, _liebe_?”

“Cur-Curiosity killed the ca-T!” The last word comes out to a sob when Strade slices through his hip. It's deep, very deep. It'll most definitely need stitches. Ren would have collapsed were it not for Strade’s hold. He's already shaking.

“That's right! You're such a smart little fox, aren't cha?” He pulls the knife away and brings it up. The sharp blade drops blood on to Ren head, and when he looks up, Strade is just holding the knife over him. His own blood quickly falls onto his nose, cheeks and lips. “Not today, of course. But someday. Remember that.” Strade taps Ren on the forehead with the flat side of the knife then drops Ren to the floor.

Ren’s hands scrabble to his hip to assess his injury. It's not bleeding terribly bad. He isn't going to bleed out on this disgusting basement floor. Which fills him with both comfort and disdain.

“Would you like her heart?” Strade says, out of the blue. He stares Ren down when he moves his head meet the other’s eyes. 

“What?” Isn't Strade angry with him? He did something he wasn't supposed to. He shouldn't get rewarded. As he thinks that, his hip throbs in pain and it clears his head. He's already been punished for that and Strade wasn't the type to punish him more than once for the same transgression. 

“For real?”

“I'm not gonna do a damn thing with it. So, if you want it, it's yours.” Strade flips the blade, holding out the hilt for Ren to take. He does so quickly before Strade can change his mind and stares at it.

Ren wishes Strade hadn't given him a knife. It's such a ‘Strade’ type of weapon. He could get the same job done with just his claws, but Strade's already gotten mad with him once today. It'd be better to do what he wants.

Ren kneels and brings the knife to the top of her dress, ripping it through the thin fabric. He stops cutting when the blade gets down to the bunched up fabric covering her stomach. 

This never gets easier. Ren remembers Strade's lesson. _They're already dead, you're not causing them pain or grief_. Knowing that helps a little, but not a lot. He takes a deep breath and drags the knife deep into her skin, just underneath her ribs, in a horizontal line. Less blood than Ren was expecting flow from the wound, but then again, most of her blood was already on the floor before Strade even gave Ren the knife.

To avoid cutting more, he reaches into the cut with the hand not holding the knife. It's still hot, almost too hot for his skin if he himself ran colder than humans. His brain quickly tries to punch out the thought, but the warmth and slick movement is comforting. When he finds the lump under her left side, he lets his claws rip through the protective layer around the heart, slice through the aorta, and bring it out through the same cut.

When he has her heart in his hand, he stands up to look at Strade who has a bright red blush covering him from cheeks to the collar of his shirt. No doubt he got turned on by Ren’s little ‘display.’ He's glad someone got pleasure out of it, at least. Strade nods slightly and Ren brings his gaze back to the heart.

Ren lifts it to his lips and takes a heavy bite out of the very center. He sinks to his knees while letting the blood seep from the new wound he created. It's. Not very tasty. In fact, it's terrible. The meat is tough and fatty -- too much so for even a heart. It feels like he's chewing rubber.

“How is it?” Strade asks.

He doesn't want to lie. He's not allowed. Strade’s demand for that was unequivocal. But, he's not going to deny a treat. Which was exactly what this was. A treat. Even after he was bad. Oh well. Best to be honest. Ren’s sure Strade will understand. 

He swallows his second bite and lets the organ fall to his knees. It doesn't hit the ground, only resting on his thighs. “It's. Gross.” Strade hums at the back of his throat and stares down at Ren, waiting for him to continue. “It's like I'm eating a tire.”

“As useless in death as in life. Just as I thought.” He reaches down, picks the heart off Ren’s legs, and takes a bite for himself. Unlike Ren, he doesn't swallow it. He spits it to the ground next to her lifeless corpse. “ _Stupid_ woman.” 

“She begged more than they usually do? You were loud.” Ren says, unconfidently and without a lead in. 

“Huh. Guess I got a bit carried away yeah?” He didn't. Strade never got ‘carried away’ when he did this. He did it for fun. And if he felt like having more fun than usual today, who was Ren to judge? 

In a sick way, they were the same. Ren gets overly excited about his shows and books, going into rants and speculations when Strade shows any interest in learning. Strade gets overly excited about killing. He constantly tries to get Ren to join him in the basement.

For the first time in a long time, Ren finds himself relating to his captor on a personal level. It's a bittersweet feeling.

“God, we should get you clean, Ren! You’re a _mess_!” Strade’s booming voice rips Ren from his thoughts enough to look down at himself. True enough, the front of his tank top and his shorts are soaked and stained with blood. The woman’s and his own. There is even more on his hands and under his claws. It's sticky. He laps at it with his rough tongue.

Strade hums. “Why don't you head upstairs for a bath?” A quick nod and Ren is stripping down, leaving the bloody clothing on the floor of the basement and trudging up the stairs to go start a bath for himself. Ren doesn't close the door, knowing that Strade will come in soon enough to stitch up the wound on his hip.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first write for the fandom and I do have others on the way. So, I would appreciate any constructive criticism or comments.


End file.
